


the art of scraping through

by heavymetalqueen



Series: Cor Cordium [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Character Study, M/M, Post-Canon, Relationship Study, but canon is a hot mess rn who knows whats happening there, if it helps im crying with you, im so sorry for the pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:00:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29632215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heavymetalqueen/pseuds/heavymetalqueen
Summary: (this is my greatest fear ever but) what if Levi does live to the end of the series? what if he gets to open up a tea shop, after all? i hope he can still find some happiness there.note that this is very much a character study with some lowkey Eruri throughout, im still trying to get their voices just right :) but i hope you all enjoy x
Relationships: Levi Ackerman & Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman/Erwin Smith
Series: Cor Cordium [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2177250
Comments: 8
Kudos: 19





	the art of scraping through

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to my dearest lovely angel wife Sandy. you are the only person in the world who can get away with calling me your sugar cube, if only because i'm trying to distract you from my total lack of payments thus far. blame my sugar daddy. i love you mwah

I asked you, once, what you would do if you fulfilled your dream. What you would do once the light in your eyes was transferred to the light in the torch, the one you would carry down those steps to the basement. Even now, I can almost hear the deep breath you would take, and how your hand would tighten, briefly, around mine, before you finally swung the door open. Would you be impressed, I wonder, to see these old photographs and books? Would you be satisfied, once and for all? Knowing you as well as I do, I think not. You would have raced back up the stairs and commandeered some horses, laughing like a child the entire time. You wouldn’t have stopped until you reached the sea, and I wouldn’t have hesitated to follow you into its depths.

When no one was looking, I held the books up close and inhaled the peppermint oil that was used to preserve them. I tried to hold my breath for as long as possible, foolishly hoping that I would exhale only when I reached your grave again. But this attempt at bringing this piece of the world back to you was the cruelest, coldest gift to us both. It was just another breath, another reminder of a life without you, mixed with a fragrance that should have been used for healing. Because you are both the wound in my heart that never fully closes, and the memory of you is the balm that soothes me, too. But it seems that is all that life is to me now. Just another inhale in a world I can explore freely, followed by another exhale of disappointment that you are not beside me to see it all. 

* * *

This morning, I awoke at dawn. I lay blinking in bed for a moment, because the winter has been unusually cruel. Shaking the sleep out of my eyes, I said all of the names—yours first, always—in a litany that no one was there to hear.  
_Erwin. Hange. Kenny. Petra. Oluo. Gunther. Eld. Furlan. Isabel. Kuchel._  
In a strange country I visited once, they gave me this bracelet with ten beads on it. They said they used it to pray every day, and they offered to teach me the words so I could pray, too. But I just grabbed onto the bracelet and turned away.  
“I already know the prayers,” I said. And I do. _Erwin. Hange. Kenny. Petra. Oluo. Gunther. Eld. Furlan. Isabel. Kuchel._  
I clutch the bracelet, enough that my knuckles turn white, before setting it back down on my bedside table. Downstairs, I can hear Gabi’s footsteps as she opens up the shop, and the smallest of smiles makes its way onto my face. Of course she’s here, bright and early.  
“Hey, brat,” I call down the stairs. “What are you doing here already? It’s so goddamn early.”  
“Good morning, Mr. Levi!” Gabi calls back cheerfully. “I thought I’d get started before they all arrive.”  
That still brings a pang of sadness to my chest, even after all these years. Armin, Mikasa, Jean, and Connie will be here soon for their monthly get-together of sorts. They would do it more often, they tell me, but they’re just too busy. I shrug them off, saying that they’re noisy as all hell and make a mess of things, but I secretly enjoy the relief from all this fucking silence.  
Well, the bits of silence I have, what with Gabi working in the shop. By the walls, is she actually whistling at this godforsaken hour?  
But then I remember that here she is, the former pride of Marley, settled in Eldian lands, cleaning a tea shop. I hold back. She has given enough already.  
When I get downstairs, the first thing I do is wipe down all the surfaces. After years of working for me, Gabi is familiar with my cleaning regimen, but she somehow misses the corners, still. I sigh and get to work before stepping outside and watering the lilies on the windowsill.

* * *

For my birthday awhile back, Mikasa and Armin gave me a book of flowers and their meanings. I thought it was terribly tacky of them, but they urged me to give it a shot. I had just bought this property in town and was turning it, slowly but surely, into the tea shop it is today. “It looks kind of bare, no?” Mikasa said. “Maybe you should add some flowers outside, or something.” I just raised an eyebrow and grabbed the book without responding.  
The next day, I went to the florist’s. I told him to pick out any flowers that would look nice outside my shop. He gave me a strange, sad look, and handed lily seeds over to me.  
When I got home, I looked for lilies in the book. Lilies mean devotion and commitment, it stated. They are also associated with rebirth and are used in funerals to symbolize that the soul of the departed is restored to innocence after death.  
Well, I thought. I guess the florist knows more about me than anyone ever should. That was a bit on the nose.  
But I planted the lilies anyway. They’re blooming now, and beckoning customers into the shop.

* * *

Speaking of customers, here come the brats.  
“Look, it’s heichou!” Connie yells, even though I literally own this shop, and also, I’ve told him ten million times that it is an ungodly hour for anyone to be shrieking. But after losing Sasha, it’s been rare to see him so full of life, so I’ll give him this. It seems I let a lot of things slide, these days. I really am getting fucking old.  
“Shut the hell up, Connie,” Jean hisses as he whacks him in the back of the head. But he’s smiling. It seems we all find comfort in familiar faces, even a little bit, even after all this time.  
“Brats,” I say in greeting, when they are all standing in front of me. But of course, they are not quite brats anymore. Jean is now the ambassador between Marley and Paradis. Mikasa is in charge of the Training Corps. Connie’s opened a bakery in Sasha’s honor, which is actually where I get my pastries fresh every morning. And Armin—looking at him makes my heart hurt a bit more—is doing research at the capital, making a new history book that finally reveals the truth about the world.  
You would have loved that. You would have been right there beside him, in those musty old libraries I would spend hours cleaning. I can imagine your hands trailing reverently over the old documents and letters, the drawings and maps. You would turn to me and say, “Levi, look what I found—”  
Mikasa is suddenly too close, shaking my arm. I guess I must have looked odd, standing outside my shop with a rag in one hand and a dazed look on my face. But that can be blamed on getting older too, I suppose.  
“Levi?” Shit, she looks worried. “Are you okay?” Great. Now all the brats look concerned. I can practically read their minds: he hasn’t been quite the same since…  
“I’m fine,” I reply. “Come on in, it’s cold out.”

Gabi and I work to prepare their breakfasts, Connie’s pastries included, before I take a seat at their table with my own black tea. They are nudging each other and joking around, which is nice to see, I guess.  
“So,” Jean says after a long silence. “How have things been?”  
No one responds, which means the question must be for me.  
“It’s fine. People enjoy tea and pastries, which is good for business.”  
“I see. We never got much of a chance to enjoy these things before. I wish they were all here to—”  
“No shit,” I say, sharper than I intend to. I am so fucking sick of being stuck in the web of the past, but it seems I am hopelessly tangled in it. I cannot move an inch without bumping into yet another memory of a person I’ve lost.  
The four of them look at me with varying shades of alarm and pity, and I can’t take it anymore. I stand from the table.  
“Heichou, Jean didn’t mean it like that,” Armin says, but it’s too late. I’m already grabbing my coat and leaving. I’ve poisoned what was supposed to be their light and lovely breakfast time, a break from their hectic schedules. And the way Armin had looked at me, ready to play the diplomat as always…it was too much, too familiar, too soon, even now.  
I brace myself for the biting winds and walk off.

* * *

There is a perk that comes with being Humanity’s Strongest, for as heavy as the weight of that role is, the more chances I have to ask for favors. And this is one of them.  
“Good morning,” I say to the graves. “It’s been a while.”  
My mother’s grave is the nearest to me, so I crouch there and wipe at her tombstone. Her grave is empty, as Hange’s is, but I still wanted them to be here somehow.  
“I fucked up,” I say, as I move onto Kenny’s grave. I nudge his tombstone for old time’s sake, before turning to Hange’s grave.  
“The brats were at my shop today; did you know that?” I ask no one and everyone. “They seem to grow at least ten inches every time I see them, those shitheads. And they all seem—well, happy doesn’t sound right. Content, maybe. Relieved, for sure.”  
I run a hand over the graves of Isabel and Furlan before turning, finally, towards the last grave in the row.  
“You would’ve known what to say to them,” I call out. “You would’ve listened to all the stories they have about the capital, about the soldiers and the books too. You would’ve laughed with them.”  
I trace the letters on your tombstone before sitting back on my heels.  
“I didn’t mean to be an asshole. It’s just that some days are worse than others.”  
No one replies, but they seem to understand anyway.  
In a smaller voice, I say something I’ve been holding onto for years. “They have each other, you know, and I don’t really have anyone. I’m glad they come by sometimes, and Gabi helps out with the shop, but I go upstairs to total silence, and—”  
“Levi?”  
God fucking damn it.  
“What are you doing here, Mikasa?”  
I should have known. Only Mikasa could be quiet enough to come this close to me without getting her head chopped off.  
“I wanted to check on you after you walked out. Jean didn’t mean what he said, you know.”  
“I don’t give a fuck whether he meant it or not!” I yell, finally turning to face her.  
She takes a step back. “Okay, Levi. I just wanted you to know that he’s kind of a dumbass most of the time.”  
“Well, I know that.”  
“Yeah,” she scoffs. “It seems some things really never change.”  
When she senses that I’ve calmed down a bit, she sits on her heels next to me and stares at the graves.  
“It was nice of you, you know.”  
“Nice of me to what?”  
“To put them all together like this.”  
“It’s not like it makes much of a difference to them.”  
“But it does to you.”  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
We’ve never really had a long conversation like this before. But then again, the fact that I would consider this a long conversation probably says a lot about my life.  
“Well, they’re all here together, and you can visit them as much as you want. You’re going to hate this—”  
“Then why even say it?”  
“But I know for sure that they’re watching over you now. They’re so, so proud of you, Levi.”  
Distantly, I can hear another piece of my heart breaking, but more than anything, I’m horrified at how cliché her words are.  
“I never expected to hear something so sappy from you, of all people.”  
“Levi, would you just listen for a minute?” I know that tone. My mother used it on me, too.  
“Fine. But make it quick, you guys aren’t my only customers today.”  
“Obviously I know that. So just fucking listen.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m here for you, and so is everyone else.”  
“But—”  
“Didn’t I just tell you to listen? I’m trying to have a nice family moment here. Anyway, we’re here for you, but we can’t replace the people you lost. We know that. You know that. But we’re still here for you.”  
I can’t think of anything to say to that, so I sit there in silence.  
“We all lost people we loved in the war.”  
She’s thinking of Eren, and Sasha, and the other people she lost, too. I was so carried away by my own grief that I forgot about hers.  
“Mikasa, I’m—”  
“So, we understand you better than anyone else would.” She continues like I haven’t even spoken. “If you need anything, I want you to let us know right away. I, for one, will drop everything and come here. Everything. Do you understand?”  
“You’re talking to me like I’m a child who shit his pants, Mikasa.” I’m trying not to focus on how my throat is starting to close up.  
“Well, maybe you need to be talked to like a child who shit his pants, so it sticks in your goddamned brain. So, do you understand?”  
“I do.”  
“Well, there you have it. Was that so hard?”  
I’m still fighting off tears. It probably comes with being an old man.  
“Guess not.”  
“Okay. Now come on, they’re all waiting for you. You know, Jean visited once, during morning training. This cadet got tangled in the wires, like Eren did that first day...”  
Mikasa has a faraway look in her eyes, but the lilt in her voice shows just how much she’s laughed over this.  
I stand up and we walk out of the graveyard together.  
“Mikasa, do you really want Jean to tell me the story, or will you just do it yourself?”  
We bicker all the way back to the shop. I haven’t smiled this much in ages.

* * *

It’s right before closing time, because the sun is about to set, when a kid comes up to the counter. He has auburn hair and wide blue eyes that are even bigger because of the thick glasses he has on. He looks like a combination of so many people I once knew, and it’s starting to give me a headache.  
“Excuse me, mister?”  
“What is it, brat?”  
I’m positive my tone is dripping with acid, but he clings to the counter anyway. It also seems that he’s tiptoeing to watch me clean the display case for the pastries.  
“I read about you in my history book.”  
“Is that so? Well, I’m not dead yet.”  
“Obviously.” Did the brat just roll his eyes at me?  
“So, what’s your point? I’m cleaning, you know.”  
“I want to be just like Commander Erwin when I grow up.”  
At that, I stop moving, and maybe even stop breathing.  
“He was so strong and brave! Even after his arm got cut off!”  
“You want your arm to get cut off, too?” Because what I want is for this conversation to end. Is the brat really that dense?  
“No! I just want to be brave like him.”  
“I guess that’s fair.” Everyone else did, anyway, once they heard him speak. I would know.  
There’s a bit of silence, so I continue cleaning. I think the kid’s left, but then he talks again.  
“And Hange Zoe! Did you know Hange Zoe?”  
At that, my rag falls to the floor. Dammit. I’m going to have to get a new one from the back.  
“Hange was my best friend.”  
“Oh,” the kid says. That seems to shut him up for a while.  
“Why did Hange love titans so much, anyway?”  
I have to laugh at that. “Hange was the weirdest person I’ve ever met. I couldn’t explain them if I tried.”  
The kid smiles, and there’s a gap in his teeth. He parrots back, “I guess that’s fair.”  
I shake my head and try to get back to cleaning, but I can feel the brat’s eyes on me.  
“I’m about to close, so whatever you want to say, you better say it now.”  
“I just thought it would be cool to meet my hero.”  
“I thought Erwin was your hero.”  
“But he’s dead.”  
“So?”  
“So…you’re alive. Which means you’re my hero. He’s just cool.”  
I have to laugh a bit at that. If only things could be so simple. Call it wishful thinking, but I can almost see Erwin pouting when he hears this, that insufferable idiot.  
The kid flashes a toothy grin that looks too much like Hange’s before he turns away and leaves the shop with his mom.  
“Gabi,” I say, as I turn to her in the kitchen, “you can go home already.”

* * *

All things considered, it’s not a bad life. I have a tea shop that makes my apartment smell like fruits and flowers. I have Mikasa and Armin and the two lunatics, as noisy and dense as they usually are. I have Gabi, too, to help me with the shop and to breathe some life into it. And when I get too lonely, the graveyard is just a few minutes away.  
Before I turn the lights out that night, I glance at the book of flowers on my bedside table.  
“I think it’s time to plant more flowers outside,” I say into the emptiness. It seems to agree with me.

* * *

The next day, I return to the shop with the seeds of roses, lotuses, irises, and petunias. They all mean different things. But there’s a lot of hope and strength here in this windowsill, that’s for sure. It’s not just for mourning anymore.  
And I couldn’t resist. I had to get a blue daze plant, too. I found the description of it in my book. _It is a flower that represents the metaphysical striving for the impossible and infinite,_ I read.  
“What the fuck does that even mean?” I wonder out loud.  
But I know you would understand it, because you always were striving for the impossible yourself. And I, in turn, was always right behind you. Because you haven’t gotten rid of me yet. I don’t think you ever will. So it seems I’ll be chasing you into infinity.

**Author's Note:**

> the poem that inspired the piece: "Disbelief" by Kamilah Aishah Moon. give it a read!  
> (PS, Erwin’s perspective is coming soon, hopefully. i am having the hardest time ever trying to write him for some reason please send help)


End file.
